


Bruises & Embraces

by Raistlin_The_Wizard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raistlin_The_Wizard/pseuds/Raistlin_The_Wizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/><img/></p>
  <p>A non-chronological compilation of the old love/hate situation that stroke the hearts of two former enemies. Can this troubled relationship survive?</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shopping Blues

Harry strolled through Diagon Alley. It had been seven years since he had first been there after he first discovered he was a wizard. Back then, Hagrid had been with him, showing him where to go and where to buy all the things he needed for Hogwarts. After all this time, the feeling of amazement hadn’t faded away; Harry still felt as the little boy he once was, wanting to see and buy everything, enchanted by all the surrounding wonders.  
  
Christmas was just around the corner and he was there to purchase all the gifts he needed for his loved ones. This year he’d spend big. After all, they had much to celebrate after having defeated Voldemort once and for all. This year they could openly celebrate Christmas, inviting friends over with no fear of being attacked at any moment or having to wonder whether someone was under the Imperius Curse.  
  
Harry stopped outside Amanuensis Quills. The shop window had an array of several very interesting quills and inks. Harry got inside the shop and was overwhelmed by the thousands of quills stacked in the walls. There were quills made of Phoenix feathers, Hippogriffs feathers, Augurey feathers, Eagles, Owls and every other bird imaginable. He spotted the infamous quick-quill notes used by Rita Skeeter and twisted his nose. On the opposite wall of the shop there were thousands of ink bottles, from tiny ones to some as big as bowling balls.  
  
“Excuse me, young sir, may I be of assistance?”  
  
Harry turned to face a middle-aged wizard with ink stains all over his sleeves and hands. He was about to say what he wanted when the man’s eyebrows shot into this forehead in delight.

“Harry Potter! What a great honour, sir! Please, feel free to pick anything you want, it’s on the house, sir! Bless your soul!”

Ever since the Voldemort's defeat, people were even more enthusiastic at the sight of him; more than when he had defeated the dark wizard when he was young.  
  
“No need for that, please. I’m looking for something special to give my friend, Hermione Granger. She’s a brilliant witch, top of our class, and she’s always in need of good quills. What do you recommend?”

“I have the perfect gift, sir! Come, take a look.”

Harry followed him to the counter. The man dropped out of sight and returned with an engraved golden rectangular box. The golden embossing on the outside depicted a Phoenix soaring into the sky, leaving a trail of fire underneath.

“This is every scholar’s dream.”

Opening the box, he took a long Phoenix feather. Harry didn’t know much about quills, but it was obvious that was no ordinary quill. It had a magical glow about it, and it gave a sense of power to the beholder. It had been dyed a rich, deep purple.  
  
“That is stunning!”  
  
“Wait, good sir, there’s more.”

He opened the box completely and Harry could see six more feathers just like that inside. All had a different colour.

“Each colour represents a different strength. Take this purple one for example. If you’re writing a very important paper, this will help you not only to write with no errors, but it will empower your words with a sense of importance. It is used, for example, by the Ministry to write decrees, so that when the people read it, they know that it's an official document and that it must be complied with.”

“This is just perfect! I’ll take it. How much does it cost?”  
  
The Amanuensis gave him a big smile and started to wrap the box.

“As I said before, for you it’s free. A small token of appreciation for all you’ve done, sir.”  
  
“I can’t take it. This is too valuable to give away.”

“I won’t accept a refusal. Here you go, all wrapped up. Have a very Merry Christmas, Harry Potter!”

And with that he left to the back of the shop to resume his writing works, leaving an embarrassed Harry standing at the counter. Harry waited a few moments, but when it was clear the man wasn’t coming back he dropped one Galleon on the counter and left the shop.  
  
The quills shop was right next to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. Harry decided to stop by to get new robes, since he was redoing his seventh year at Hogwarts and his robes of two years ago were now too small for him. Even though Madam Malkin had seen Harry before and was a little more low profile than the Amanuensis, she also insisted that Harry left with the new robes free of charge and became very angry when Harry tried to pay anyway.  
  
Harry decided he needed a break from shopping, so he headed towards the Leaky Cauldron to get a drink. That also happened to be where he had agreed to meet Ron and Hermione. They had decided to split so they could buy each other’s gifts. Tom greeted Harry eagerly. Harry asked for a Butterbeer and sat in a dark corner. All of that worshipping was leaving him grumpy. What he wanted more than anything was to have a normal life, and while people kept treating him as hero he’d never be able to get that.  
  
After an hour and a half, a flustered Hermione entered the pub carrying several bags. She spotted Harry and headed towards the table, dropping the bags in a nearby chair.  
  
“Hi, Harry. How did your shopping go?”

Harry gestured towards his only two bags.

“Not well. People kept offering me things; they won’t let me buy anything. I got fed up so I came here. So far I only got yours.”  
  
“Oh, Harry. It’s still too fresh in people’s minds. I know you don’t like to draw attention to yourself, but you need to woo people for a bit. Eventually the interest will fade way. They had so little to celebrate last year; let them thank you in the way they know.”

A shadow crossed Harry’s face.

“I know that. It’s just that with Voldemort gone--” A witch sitting at the next table let her glass fall and break at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, implying she had been eavesdropping on the conversation. Harry tried to breathe in deeply and keep his temper down. “As I was saying, with Voldemort gone--” The witch let out a small gasp, making Harry lose it.  
  
“Excuse me, madam, is there something bothering you? Do you want me to stop saying Voldemort? Is the word Voldermort hurting you? I faced him, he’s not that big of a deal, old pal VOLDEMORT!”

The witch turned a sickly pale green and left the bar running, clutching her hand to her heart as if it’d jump right out of her chest.  
  
“Harry! That wasn’t nice! People are still afraid. You should be more thoughtful.”

“I should be more thoughtful? It’s her fault for eavesdropping on somebody else’s conversation. When will this be over, huh? When will I be able to walk the streets without being stopped a dozen of times to shake hands? When will I be able to buy something without it being shoved down my throat? Hang out with my friends anonymous, unknown, normal!”  
  
Hermione bit her lip.  
  
“I’m sorry Harry, but to a certain extent I don’t think that will ever happen. You changed the lives of everyone when you defeated him. Your name is part of History. You won’t ever be able to escape that. Just try to handle it the best as you can. We’re here for you, Ron and I.”

Hermione suddenly blushed before asking.  
  
“How are you doing, anyway? After… you know what…”

Harry’s face became even more sullen. He definitely didn’t want to talk about _that_. But before he was forced to answer, Ron arrived holding only one bag.  
  
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Ron, why do you have only one bag?!”  
  
Ron’s face became redder than Hermione’s shirt.

“Well… you see… I was out there shopping, but then I got in Broomstix and they were having this autograph session with Chuddley Cannon members. Of course I couldn’t miss it, so I bought a calendar and had them sign it. By the time I was done, it was getting late so I just came back here.”

“Well done, Ron, brilliant. Now we’ll have to spend tomorrow in Hogsmeade for you to buy the rest of your stuff!”

Ron was cowering under Hermione’s rant, but the scene only made Harry’s heart twist. Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of longing, he got up.

 “I’m sorry guys; there’s something I need to do before going back to Hogwarts. I will see you back at school.”  
  
Harry got out of the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Ron and Hermione to bicker about the merits of Quidditch merchandize. It was still early afternoon, so he had plenty of time before having to return back to Hogwarts. Deciding on a destination, he turned on the spot and Disapparated with a loud crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I guess you could say this is the first chapter of this compilation, but who knows, I might decide to come up with something even earlier in time... I hope you people don't get too confused with the time-line jumps.


	2. Graveyard Showdown

Harry was so distracted that when he finally Apparated, he landed wrongly and slipped on the wet snow that covered the ground. He threw his hand to cushion the blow, which resulted in more than a few ice burns. Cursing himself mentally, the pain on his hand was nothing compared to the pain on his heart. Hermione had tried to get him to talk about it, but he didn’t want to. It still hurt too much.  
  
Suddenly, without being able to avoid it, the image of Ginny snogging Neville behind Greenhouse 3 haunted his mind. The shock had been such that Harry had frozen, unable to say anything or look away while Neville’s hand caressed Ginny’s breasts, making her moan with pleasure. She was letting him get further than she had ever allowed Harry. Ginny was halfway undressed when she finally saw Harry.

“Harry!”  
  
“He’s not here, babe… don’t stop… what’s wr… Harry!”

Neville had finally seen Harry too and tried to quickly pull his trousers up, ending up falling on the dirt. Harry’s rage was now boiling up. Ginny started to dress herself.

“Harry, please, let me explain…”  
  
“Explain what? That you’re a WHORE?! How could you! And you?! I thought you were my friend!”

“Harry, it’s not like that… we didn’t plan for it to happen… but you were away all of that time… things happen and…”  
  
Neville didn’t have time to finish his sentence, for Harry had shot him with a spell that left him unconscious. Ginny dived to see if Neville was okay, which only infuriated Harry even more, so he stormed off.  
  
That had happened right at the beginning of the term and Harry still fumed every time he thought about it. His girlfriend and one of his good… ex-good friends. What made things worse was that he had to share the dormitory with Neville. There was always this awkward silence when the two of them were in the same place. Most people stood by Harry’s side, saying he was right to be angry and pissed off. Still, Neville had impressed a lot of people during the last year at Hogwarts. He stood up to the Death Eaters and helped a lot of the students, who now held him in high regard. Therefore, people were torn on how to act and which side to actually take. Harry had almost stopped talking to Hermione when he found out she was still in good terms with Neville. She had explained that she understood that what Ginny and Neville did had been wrong only because they hid it. She believed they were truly in love and, therefore, couldn’t blame them for that.  
  
“Love… that slut is not capable of love… I should have known… first she’s supposedly in love with me all of those years and suddenly starts dating all of those guys… and then falls into my arms again when I allow it… cunt!”  
  
Unconsciously, Harry had walked to the front gate of Godric’s Hollow cemetery. In the last few months, since the end of the war, he had been coming there every time he could. He knew Hermione worried about him spending too much time there, but he didn’t care. In that place he felt peace. Besides, his guilt for having survived had only increased with time and he felt he owed it to the dead to go there as much as possible and pay tribute.  
  
He opened the gates, which creaked like a complaining old lady and headed towards the first stop in his tour. By now he knew the paths there better than the lines on his own hands. He soon arrived at his parents’ grave. The snow had covered the flowers he had brought last time. He dug them up and replaced them with a beautiful wreath, very similar to the one Hermione had conjured last year.

  
“I wish there was a way to bring you back. I wish I could just go back in time, save you and have the childhood I always wanted. To grow up in the magical world. To ride a play broomstick around the house. To befriend other magical kids. To be held by you.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments before heading towards the next grave. Unlike his parents’ grave, this one had a very recent look to it. The engravings on it were still very fresh.

 _Here lies Nymphadora and Remus Lupin_  
Beloved Parents.  
– 2nd May 1998 –

 “I’m sorry, so sorry. It shouldn’t have ended like this. You should be here for Teddy. I don’t know how I am going to face him when he’s older. How I am going to explain how you both died while I lived. You shouldn’t have made me his godfather. I don’t deserve it.”  
  
Tears streaked down Harry’s cheeks as he talked and conjured another wreath to place on the fallen lovers’ grave. He was about to go to Sirius’s grave when something caught his attention. The sun was shining on a platinum blonde boy a few graves to the left. Of all the persons in the world that Harry did not want to see right now, Draco was probably top of the list. However, he was intrigued by Draco's presence there, so he wiped his tears and marched towards his sworn enemy. Well, once sworn enemy. After Voldemort's death there had been some kind of truce between them. Draco now lay low around the school, and he didn’t mock Harry at every chance he got. He had been one of the few Slytherins to return to Hogwarts; therefore, he spent most of this time alone.  
  
Draco heard Harry’s steps and looked up. He quickly turned his face away, trying to hide the tears. That shocked Harry. He had been prepared to have a verbal fight with the Slytherin young man, but the sight of Draco’s vulnerability took the words out of him.  
  
“What do you want, Potter? Come to gloat a bit more?”  
  
Draco waited for Harry to reply, but when Harry didn’t, he just strutted away. Harry stood a few seconds there, motionless. Finally he went to see which grave had made Draco cry.

 _Here lies Vincent Crabbe,_  
Beloved Son.  
– 2nd May 1998 –

Harry felt like a jerk. Truth was, Draco had lost a lot with the war too, including one of his best friends. Harry had never considered that. He decided to chase after Draco and caught up with him at the gates.

“Hey, Draco, wait!”  
  
“Finally found your tongue, Potter? What is it?”  
  
Grief and pain crossed the pallid boy’s face. Feelings Harry recognized all too well.  
  
“I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for your loss. Crabbe I mean.”  
  
“Yeah? And what do you care?”

“I just know what it feels like, that’s all.”  
  
“Really? Last time I checked, Granger and Weasley were alive and well. How could you possibly understand, Potter?”

  
Draco was now face to face with Harry and once again he was at loss for words.  
  
“When that filthy Mudblood and pest of Wealsey die, you let me know how you feel.”

Rage took over Harry and he just punched Draco, who punched him back. The two latched onto each other and rolled on the floor trying to hit one another between insults and curses.

“Don’t you ever…”  
  
“Shut up, Potter…”

“You damn idiot. I was trying to be nice…”

“I don’t need you to be nice…”

“Yes, you do. You’re all alone…”

“SHUT UP, POTTER!”  
  
“Does the truth hurt…”  
  
“I SAID, SHUT UP!”  
  
“Or what?”

Draco finally managed to shut up Harry by kissing him. There was so much hatred, so much anger, so much passion, so many feelings invested in that kiss that Harry didn’t even had time to process it. Next thing he knew, he was retuning the kiss and now they were both sharing their tongues, exploring each other with a passion and fierceness that was almost painful.  
  
They rolled over so that Draco was now on top of Harry, pressuring his midsection against Harry’s pelvic region. Harry could feel Draco’s hardness under the trousers and noted with surprise that he had a hard-on too. Draco grabbed Harry arms and pinned them over this head in a strong and dominating movement, making Harry release a hoarse moan. Whether it was of pleasure or pain, Harry did not know. He couldn’t sort out his feelings. Draco kept kissing him and all he could think of was that he wanted to be consumed by all that fire, forget everything and just let go.  
  
Then suddenly Draco pulled away and Harry was left in the ground barely breathing, the absence of the body pressing against his as painful as its presence had been. Draco was looking at him and Harry could see that he was as surprised and confused as Harry. Before there was a chance to say anything, Draco turned away and ran. Harry couldn’t do anything to stop him; he just lay there on the floor. The snow beneath had melted under the heat of his body and was now soaking his clothes, leaving him wet and cold.  
  
After a long time, Harry finally got up and started making his way back to Hogwarts.


	3. Enemies, Lovers

Harry was tossing and turning in his canopy bed. He couldn’t shut off his mind. What had happened still bedazzled him. How could he have kissed Malfoy?! Malfoy! Of all the people in the world. They had hated each other ever since they first met. But the taste of his kiss still lingered in Harry’s mouth. The more he recalled the moment, the more details he noticed, like the softness of Draco’s lips, or the strength of his grip when he grabbed Harry’s arms. And every time Harry thought of that moment, he felt a desire like nothing before.

“This time you totally lost it Harry. Seven years fighting for your life finally took a toll on you. You must be brain damaged.”

As the hours dragged on, Harry’s hard-on wouldn’t come down. He tried to release the tension by looking at a girl’s magazine, but somehow it wasn’t working. Finally he cave in and allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like to give himself completely to Draco. By the time he finished, the explosion of pleasure was so intense that he bit himself till blood came out, trying to prevent a scream of ecstasy from coming out. Bleeding but exhausted in a good way, he finally fell asleep.  
  
The next morning, Harry woke up late to find the dormitory already empty. He got himself dressed and got down to the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron were already finishing their breakfast. Draco was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Morning,” said Harry, gulping a bowl of cereals.  
  
“Morning. You look different.” Hermione was looking at him with an inquisitive look.

“What do you mean?”  
  
Harry’s heart was thumping. Could she know something? No, that’d be impossible, he was being paranoid.

“I don’t know… it’s like a shadow lifted off you… it’s actually good.”  
  
“Hermione, I thought you were not into that kind of divination stuff.”  
  
Hermione was about to answer back, but Ron kept talking.

“Anyway, where were you last night? I didn’t see you come in.”  
  
Harry mumbled something with his mouth full and changed the subject.  
  
“Ron, don’t you need to go to Hogsmeade today? I need to go as well, still got a lot of presents to buy.”

“Let’s all go together then. I got all I needed, but I can check Tomes and Scrolls for new books.” Hermione interrupted.

“New books? What for?! You have the whole library of Hogwarts at your disposal; what other books could you need?!”

Hermione just rolled her eyes and left the table.  
  
“Seriously? Why would she need new books?” Ron insisted.  
  
“Let it go, mate. Let’s just go to Hogsmeade and finish all the Christmas shopping.”

Once they got to Hogsmeade, they parted ways as they had done in Diagon Alley. Harry headed towards Spintwitches, the local sporting goods shop, to find a present for Ron. The store looked very small from the outside, but when Harry got inside, it extended far beyond what it should. Harry guessed that some things were just bigger on the inside.  
  
There were so many things there whose uses Harry did not know, that he was reminded of how little he still knew about the Wizard World. Clearly there were as many sports as in the Muggle World. He headed towards the Quidditch section, since that was something he knew almost all about.

“Good morning, sir. May I be of assistance?”

A young man, no more than twenty-two years old, dressed in red robes with a pin saying “Oswald Sergei” stood on Harry’s right, having appeared so suddenly that Harry dropped the broom he had been holding.  
  
“Sorry about that,” he said as Oswald picked up the broom and placed it carefully in its place. “Do you happen to have any Chuddley Cannons goods? My best friend is a fan and I’m looking for something special to give him this Christmas.”  
  
If Oswald knew who Harry was, he gave no sign and treated him with indifference. Harry found it refreshing.  
  
“Certainly, sir.”

Grabbing a nearby ladder, the young man climbed four steps and took down a small square box and gave it to Harry to open.  
  
“Oh. This is actually pretty good!”

Inside, resting on black velvet, were orange dragon skin gloves embroidered with the Chuddley Cannons logo. The quality was undeniable. Harry put them on to test them and they were both flexible and incredibly strong.  
  
“They’re actually perfect for Keepers, sir. The skin will protect against rash or sudden blows from stopping the Quaffle from getting in the goalposts.”

“Funny, my friend is indeed a Keeper. This is perfect, then.”  
  
“I’m glad I was of service. You can pay at the counter. It’s 10 galleons.”

Harry’s eyes widened. That was very expensive, but since he had saved up so much with Hermione’s present he decided to take it. Ten minutes later and with his wallet a lot lighter, Harry was again out in the streets. The others would still be busy, so he decided to walk around for a bit. Somehow he ended up near the path that led to the Shrieking Shack. He was about to turn back when he spotted a lonely figure up at the top. His heart started beating fast. It was Draco Malfoy. Harry went after him. He was halfway through when Draco saw him. They exchanged looks for a brief moment and then Draco ran away. Harry followed him.  
  
“Go away, Potter!”  
  
Draco vanished inside the Shrieking Shack and this time, without hesitation, Harry followed. He heard steps upstairs so he went to the first floor. A door stood ajar, still moving. Harry got in the room. Draco was sitting on the bed, bent over, with his head between his hands.

“I said, go away. Leave me alone.”

His voice was shaking. Harry knew not if in anger or something else. Something like what he might be feeling. Anticipation.

“We need to talk about the other day.”  
  
“There’s nothing to talk about.”  
  
“I think there is. You kissed me. Why?”  
  
“I did no such thing. Are you calling me a faggot?”  
  
“ _Are_ you?”

Draco jumped out of bed, ready to lunge himself at Harry, but this time the Boy Who Lived was ready, and, using his quick reflexes, dodged and pinned Draco against the wall. The blonde boy’s perfume filled Harry’s nostrils, a mix of an expensive odour mingled with the sweat of the sprint towards the shackle. Harry found it strangely exciting.

“Let me go, Potter! I’ll kill you!”  
  
“No, you won’t. Stop struggling! You had the chance before and you didn’t. You won’t do it now.”

Draco managed to free himself and grabbed Harry, now pinning him to the wall. Harry could feel Draco’s hardness pressing against him, so Harry teased him.

“I guess your mind is not keeping up with your body… for someone who says they are not a faggot.”

Draco turned Harry around and kissed him. This time Harry lost no time and kissed him back. The relief and the freedom he felt were nothing like he had ever experienced. It felt right. For the first time he felt right, in the right place, doing the right thing.  
  
Draco threw Harry into the bed, and the Gryffindor spread his legs so Draco could fit perfectly into his body. Draco grabbed Harry's shirt and ripped it off, kissing Harry again while rubbing his nipples. Harry, however, could not wait; he needed Draco inside him and he needed it right away. He took out his own pants and boxers and turned on his back.  
  
“Please, fuck me.”  
  
Without a word, Draco yanked Harry’s hair and thrust himself inside Harry’s body, who screamed both in pleasure and pain. In a rhythmic and passionate motion, the former enemies, now lovers, released all of the tension, all of the pain in those frantic moments, both losing themselves in each other’s body.

As they were both laying on the bed, exhausted from the effort of consuming each other, neither knew what to say or what to do. Neither could understand what was compelling them to one another. Draco prepared to get out of bed but Harry grabbed his hand.  
  
“Please, stay. Don’t go.”  
  
The vulnerability in Harry’s pleading voice eclipsed the sarcastic words Draco was preparing. Instead he found himself being dragged to bed and letting himself being held in Harry’s embrace. They stood there in each other’s arms for hours. Not talking. Just feeling each other’s body.

When night was finally approaching, they knew they couldn’t stay any longer; they needed to go back to the school. However, the thought of leaving each other was painful. What if it had been a one-time thing? What if the other would never look him in the eye again?  
  
They dressed back to back, without facing each other. Finally, at the door they kissed again. This time more softly, more tenderly, more lovingly.  
  
“Will…” Harry started.  
  
“Shhh…” said Draco, silencing Harry with a kiss, before leaving with a new sparkle in his eyes, which left Harry hoping. Hoping that maybe there was something more. Maybe this Christmas he would be getting what he wanted.  
  
“And all I want is you…” he whispered, before leaving as well.


	4. Silent Valentine

 

 Harry woke up suddenly, startled by a nightmare. Unfortunately for him, Harry had an uncanny ability to remember his dreams and nightmares, and all the mental exercises he had underwent to become an Auror had only enhanced that skill. Tonight he dreamed that Umbridge had successfully implemented a new Educational Degree forbidding any inter-houses romantic relationships. He had been so mad it took him a while to realize that not only had Umbridge left Hogwarts ten years ago, that he himself was an adult out of Hogwarts for nearly as much time.

"That old toad still plagues me…"

Brushing his hand through the place next to him in bed he found it empty. That startled Harry for a second time in a short time span. Looking around he saw no traces of the person he had spent the night with.

_That shouldn't surprise me, he never stays…_

Shrugging off he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Harry was about to grab his toothbrush when he noticed a rose petal carelessly dropped near the sink. He reached for the petal, it was still fresh and soft to the touch with a deep dark red shade. He got out of the bathroom and went to the kitchen fast paced. The calendar on the wall confirmed his fears.

"Oh, fuck."

It was February fourteenth, Valentine's. Dread was quickly replaced by panic, he hadn't gotten anything to give. Getting any decent Valentine's gift today would be hell and nearly impossible, everything would be sold out, not mention of the lameness of having forgotten to buy something. Cursing himself a million times under his breath he was midway of throwing a sweater over his shoulders when a low tap noise on the window caught his attention.

"Just kill me now, will you."

Three owls were perched outside with big, bright envelops under their beaks. Opening the window, Harry let them in. They flew a little bit around his head before dropping the three envelops on the bed and then flew right away again out of the window. Looking at them getting away gave Harry a pang feeling in his stomach. He still missed Hedwig, so much he hadn't had the courage to get another Owl ever since. Harry grabbed the first envelop. It had Hermione's neat and precise handwriting in black against a regular parchment colored background.

  _"Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are doing well. I miss you, we haven't seen each other much lately. I know you must be busy with your Auror work. I can't say I have very much free time either, all this Ministry work is very demanding. Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a Happy Valentine's._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

_P.S. – Do you think this is the year Ron finally gets me something nice?"_

That put a smile on Harry's lips. It was true tough, he hadn't seen Hermione and Ron much lately, though it was more about the tension it always occurred when they met than work itself. They still didn't approve of his dating choice. Could you say dating when it had been nearly ten years since they started going out? However, they had never passed the dating phase, each one had their apartments and neither spend too much time at each other's place. Trying not to think too much about that, Harry grabbed the second envelop. The contrast of Ron's handwriting with Hermione's was shocking. Ron's was all scrawny and irregular.

  _"Harry,_  


_I'm worried. I got Hermione a bouquet flowers enchanted with an everlasting spell so she can keep them forever in her office. However, I might have done something wrong, they don't smell right... I don't' have time to get anything else now. Do you think she'll be mad?_

_Miss you, mate._

_Ron"_

Harry let out a long laughter. That was so typical of Ron's which made him miss him even more and guilty, he hadn't written anything to them either. He needed to do something about that situation soon. But not today. Today he had to find a gift and save his relationship. Grabbing the third envelop his heart skipped a beat. He knew that handwriting all too well. Not too messy but not neat either, a nice mix of poise and scruffiness, much like the owner. The letters were embossed in a silverfish gold color in a dark green parchment.

  _"Good morning Scarface,_  


  
_I know you didn't get me anything for Valentine's, therefore I know you won't mind me getting something for myself in Diagon Alley and put it in your bill. Of course I'll still have to punish you later on tonight_ hard _. I hope you like my gift to you, it's inside the envelop. Now the lads can stop eyeing you with malicious intents and start looking at you with jealousy, for now they will now you are_ mine _._

_Love,_

_Draco"_

In the hurry to find out what was inside the envelop, Harry almost let it drop, but his seeker instincts allowed him to grab it way before it hit the floor. When he opened his hand he was holding an exquisite silver ring. It had a snake and a lion joined together in a loving embrace, yet the snake was strangling one of the lion's paws with its tail and the lion had another paw scratching he snake's skin. It symbolized perfectly their relationship. It was with a light heart that Harry left the house to go buy a gift.

_All would be well._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second attempt to write something Drarry (the first attempt will be posted after, even though chronologically takes place before this chapter). Any out of character behaviour is purely intentional, this is how I envisioned a possible Drarry relationship and for that to happen, both Harry and Draco would have to change some things. 
> 
> The graphic at the top was created by me as well
> 
> -Raistlin


End file.
